When Fire and Ice Meet
by ABoyWithAnIdea
Summary: Harry Potter, 4th year, has a chance encounter with the Ice Queen of Slytherin. With a dark lord rising higher than ever before, can he love those before his time comes? Harry/Daphne
1. CH1

A Chance Encounter I

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**Harry Potter, 4th year, has a chance encounter with the Ice Queen of Slytherin. With a dark lord rising higher than ever before, can he love those before his time comes?**

**Obligatory Disclaimer:**

**I make no money off any of these Fanfiction pieces, but solely as a hobby for my, and hopefully the readers entertainment. I take no ownership in the Harry Potter works, and I only thank JK Rowling for a wonderful series of which I can write my fanfiction on.**

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"Happiness can found in even the darkest of times if only one remembers to turn on the lights"

Albus Dumbledore

**Daphne P.O.V**

7 Years ago

As a child, she didn't really have a concept of death. She knew a bit, but could never really grasp the concept, she was too young for that. Thankfully, she had known of no relatives that had died, and had lived a relatively carefree life up to then. Of course, life would soon rear its ugly head to the innocent child, living her last few days truly happy for a long time to come.

**oOo**

It had been a pleasant day, one of the nice ones, ones where it was carefree, clouds as far as she could see. Her sister, two years younger than her had offered to play with her outside in the garden. She grinned at that, and took upon her invitation.

They scurried off, beyond the shouting of their father and crashing along the hill, securely kept as they tumbled in each other's arms. They looked each other in the eyes, and after a long breadth of silence, the older one spoke first.

"You know Tori- " she spoke before quickly being interjected by her eager sister.

"Aw come on, you know I don't like that name" she exclaimed, scowling with no real malice, the older one, although accepting the truth in that comment, rolled her eyes. Her sister could be a bit of a goody too shoes, despite her influence, she really needed to let her loosen up a bit.

She smirked. "Ok, Astoria- " with a subtle jibe at her sister, "I was on the cusp of saying how good of a sister you are, but it seems you've ruined the moment". The younger one rolled her eyes at that, for a 5 year old she could be exceptionally cheeky, a fact that had been reported numerously by her tutors.

The two bonded, and insulted each other over the rest of the day, they talked and they played a variety of games, mostly led by the younger of the two. As they played, they became oblivious to the weather, and the beautiful day got darker. After being called in by father, for fear of rain, they returned to the manor.

Muddy from earlier activities, they sneaked at the back entrance, hoping to go unnoticed.

"Ah, you two" exclaimed Roxanne Greengrass, the mother of the two, "Your father said you had just run off" she spoke in an endearing tone. "Suppers ready, maybe apologise to your father over dinner?" She asked, hopefully.

"Fat chance" Astoria muttered, just loud enough for Daphne to hear. She smirked inwardly. "Yes Mother" she replied, in a good daughter sort of way. Both left to go to the dining room, leaving their mother to think.

Roxanne smiled, she was proud of them, their father might be strict at times, but she balanced that with her leniency at times. It was a careful balance, one she daren't interrupt.

She started to follow her two girls, but she stumbled, a slight pain in her head, grasping for the desk edge to keep herself up. What did those muggles call it again?

"Headache" she muttered. "Where had that come from?" A slight worry in her voice, before dismissing them. There was no need to worry, she convinced herself. It was a nice day, rare occurrences in January, she wanted to enjoy it.

Later on, after the girls had been fed, and she had tucked the girls into their beds. She sung softly, at the request of her daughters, she had a beautiful voice, and it put them quickly to sleep. Smiling, she kissed the foreheads of her girls before leaving.

Later on in the night, Roxanne had been busy in the kitchen, as her duties required her to, softly singing to herself as she busied herself in her own thoughts. Some time had passed, and then the headache came back again, only harder. A pounding in her head, over and over again, the continuous beat of the drums. She fell. She tried to regain her strength, to get up, to look in her daughter's eyes again, to see them once more but her eyes blurred out of focus. Remnants of energy vanishing away, and she felt like she was trying to grasp at smoke. Flailing and flailing to no end.

Eventually, she succumbed, and collapsed on the floor. Her eyes closed, her daughters pictured as she slipped away into the realms of the dead. The clouds gave way, it had started to rain.

**A few days later**

Daphne refused to get up, she couldn't, her mother, it- she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Daphne had locked herself in her room for days on end after her mother's passing. She couldn't leave, because if she left, she'd have to accept her mother was really gone. She couldn't be? How could she be, she had been fine for what seemed moments ago.

She could picture her mother in her head, the gentle smile. She was shamed at smirking at Tori's comment, childish, she told herself.

She sulked in her bed. It was so unfair, why her? Astoria, she handled it better than she had, knocking at her door, to no avail, she couldn't bring herself to open it. To get out of bed, to talk with her, to go down and hear the reporters outside, she was drained of her energy. She couldn't be emotional, because when she was, the fates had decided to punch her in the face.

It had started snowing outside, on most days she would have jumped at the chance to go outside. Not anymore, it reminded her too much of her mother, the days when they'd make snow angels, or a hot chocolate by the fire, she couldn't do it.

It was so sudden, a flick of the switch, someone pouring water over her candle. The days previous had been a blur, her father handled it no better. Her mother, she had been the support, the rock, the one you go to. But with her gone, it all came crumbling down.

Her father had taken the news no better, she still remembered the look of dread, the way his eyes darkened, and the wrinkles of his face became ever more pronounced. The way he spoke, the energy gone to leave a shell of a man, a husk of a man he used to be. All emotions gone. The wife of his children, gone overnight, his shoulders sagged, a fleeting look, on the verge to cry. He had cried multiple times, unseen by his children, he had to remain strong. For them.

He tried to hold it together, he explained to both of them that it was some sort of muggle cancer, a brain tumour he called it. He said there was nothing they could have done. The doctors said once it was there, they was nothing they could have done, helpless. Those words engraved into her mind. Repeating over and over. "Helpless".

Helpless, she felt helpless. Helpless to the whims of fate, she wanted to cry into her mother's shoulder, to pour her heart and soul. She couldn't, look where it had gotten her, she couldn't. She had to be strong, she couldn't pour her soul, she had to keep it hidden away to the whims of Fate.

The funeral had been quiet, none of the poshness that 'higher' tier purebloods got, but it seemed nicer all the same. She hated those people coming to wish their condolences, not out of pure sympathy, but out of political agenda and the like.

It was a blur, the rain pouring on the luscious grounds of the manor, and a small fanfare, a symphony of wizard and witches alike pulling out their wands to the sky. She lay rest on her mother's coffin.

It couldn't be, could it?

To think that her mother lay rest in that coffin. A lawyer of wood and 5 feet in the ground, lay her mother. The one who consoled her when she got tired, or when she needed a bandage with her slightly risky behaviour with tori.

The one who sang her softly to sleep, a luxury taken away only moments ago by the omniscient hand of the fates. The fates controlled the deaths of all things magical, they believed, and because of this, a belief had arisen. Due to this, the wizarding world had an interesting view on death.

Rather than going to the next great adventure as Dumbledore called it, most believed that magic was too special to ever really go. Although despite any tangible body might be gone, your magic transcends such mortality. For what wizards believe, is that your magic gets recycled in a way, reused with even the simplest of spells, in a way, her mother would never leave her.

This did little to console her, as a stream of fire had ignited within her. At who? She wondered. Fate? When her father had gone on one of his long speeches about muggle views, which he was oddly passionate about, a fact that was never discussed out of his family relationships. Amor Fati. To love fate, she recalled, the belief that all suffering was at least necessary.

What crap she thought, and whoever thought that garbage up was an idiot in her books. Shme didn't want to accept fate, because it was stupid.

It was all just so stupid.

**That Evening**

Her father had offered no consolation after the funeral, and the few jokes Tori had cracked up lay flat on their feet. Some stayed after the main gathering, chatting with each other, none had any resemblance of sympathy which they had oh so kindly offered her earlier.

In an attempt to garner some more political power she thought. After the war, which she had barely understood from her father, the ministry had been a desperate vy for power.

It was an utter abomination in the name of politics, and purebloods stigma had made no better situation of it. With no clear leader to lead, and those that did failing miserably, leaving the economy in ruins. Of course, who was expected to clean up the mess they would leave behind? Her generation of course. It was all so stupid, and with that final note she stormed into her room, her emotions boiling in a state of contemplation.

Maybe if she kept her emotions further enough down, it wouldn't be toyed with. If she shoved it far enough, her emotions, as they certainly didn't help her. An ice queen, she mused, reminded of her mother's stories. That's who she must become, Daphne Greengrass, Ice queen. No longer will she be played with by the grasp of fate.

**oOo**

**The Dursley Estate**

For a 7 year old, Harry was remarkably different from his peers. Most, at such a young age, would always have a sort of boundless energy to them, an unlimited imagination. At that age, kids were fascinated in all sorts, might it be magic or Peter Pan and his countless adventures against Captain hook, the epitome of resemblance in good and bad, the fight of the light against the dark.

Harry knew, for one, that there was no such thing. People will be people. Even with a limited conceptual understanding of these things, he knew from the offset that people were not normally one dimensional.

Harry knew that he was often seen as the quiet kid in the back of the classroom, and unless for the few encounters of his peers, they might have confused him for mute. He was normally resigned to the back of the classroom, delving into the world of literature and the joy of one of humans kinds greatest invention, the book.

His reality, sadly, was not as appealing. His relationship with his 'family' if they could be called that, was, limited at best. At worst, he was beaten for the smallest inconvenience, and his 'freakishness' did him no favours either.

Harry knew he was special, and not the 'special' person he had often heard his so called family call him to anyone who would hear them, and in one case some sort of social security, he had a gift. A gift he called it, it had started young, as young as a toddler, and had told no one of it.

One out of fear that his 'family' might take it away from him, but it made him feel, special, of sorts. He had no idea with what he was dealing with, and any sort of experimentation of it was hindered by his lack of ability.

This, 'power', had come a few times, maybe the lights flickered or the book in his hand had become levitated only slightly. It led to not much in the end, but each occurrence was like adding fuel to the fire, and as he got older, the more often the occurrence and the larger his motivation to learn what this was.

His few moments of peace were soon interrupted by his brute of an uncle, who certainly didn't sound happy. 'Boy, get out of here this instant, the lawn isn't going to move itself, " Banging the door repeatedly, 'Boy, don't let me make you get out there".

Always 'boy' never his name, or any sort of reference to him as a person, just 'boy'. Little did Harry's uncle know the greatness of a man he would become.

**oOo**

A shadow was what he had become. A wisp of a body, a corporeal spirit. Truthfully, he had no idea where he was, and had no track of time. It could have been days or years since that night at Godric's hollow. He had been arrogant, he thought in distaste. Too arrogant, going head on like he had done, disregard for the prophecy, unlike a Slytherin. Descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself, and here he was, forgotten, cast on the outskirts of the world.

Albania had been kind to him, hiding away from those who could have harmed him. The large forests across the countries had been a place of refuge, he needed to wait, to grow in power and to rise again.

A twig snapped.

"Who.." the dark lord whispered, before he saw what it was. "Are you.. but how?" Stumbling in his speech.

The figure smiled.

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**A/N A relatively short and slightly depressing, but necessary setting of the stage for our character. I do apologise though, my writing might not be very good, actually I know it's not. However, we all started somewhere, reviews are extremely appreciated, as they really help. Criticism or not, all are welcome. Cheers.**


	2. CHII

A Chance Encounter II

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Obligatory Disclaimer:

I make no money off any of these Fanfiction pieces, but solely as a hobby for my, and hopefully the readers' entertainment. I take no ownership in the Harry Potter works, and I only thank JK Rowling for a wonderful series of which I can write my fanfiction on.

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"Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly."

\- John F. Kennedy

**oOo**

Present Day (4th year)

"I'll leave you here boy, you and your freakishness-" his uncle began, before beginning to unleash into his long tirades, Harry cut him short.

"Maybe you mind getting acquainted with my godfather? He's been wanting to meet you for so long now," Mentioning his godfather normally worked, he didn't need to see his uncle, his normally passive face was always replaced with a look of fear. Of course, he looked anyway.

He scurried off quickly after that, to leave Harry smirking, before heading into the train compartments where he was hoping to be arriving to the grins of his friends.

Arriving in the compartment, he-

"What are you doing here?" the small blonde girl said, with an impatient voice, "You're in our compartment, " glaring at him before she continued "Are you going to leave or just stand there like an idiot?"

"Um, sorry, I thought this was empty, " Harry stuttered, pink rose to his cheeks, this wasn't his idea for first impressions with these two.

"And you are?" trying to save some face. He had clearly made a fool of himself and just wanted to depart without making a fuss.

The Slytherin girl just rolled her eyes, "I'm Tracey, and this beauty, is Daphne Greengrass," Tracy winked at Daphne before continuing, "You can leave now,"

This boy was clearly nervous, and she had some fun doing this to him, it was her thing, making boys uncomfortable. Kissing them also, that was her thing too.

"Just leave it Tracy," Daphne said, absentmindedly as she stared at her father, who was leading Astoria to the train, it was her first year, and Astoria seemed very excited about it all.

"You're no fun, you know that," Tracy pouted, before continuing "You know him?".

Daphne just raised her eyebrows in thought. "Aside from him saving the wizarding world? not much," she agreed quietly, not looking Tracy in the eye before resuming to staring out of the window compartment. Thankfully, the train started before she had to speak further, and Tracy had left her in favour of teasing some other boys.

Before leaving, Tracey cast Daphne a sympathising look, Daphne was just staring out of the window, as if having lost touch with reality. A few more friends would do her good she mused. Maybe even a boyfriend, smiling at the thought. Daphne just needed some subtle prodding in the right direction and it would be perfect. She truly was evil.

Harry, with his cheeks slowly receding in colour, found the right compartment further along down the train, that was accompanied by his two friends.

He had barely entered before Hermione grabbed hold of him, taking him in a large hug. He wasn't one for hugging, but when it was Hermione he made his allowances.

"Harry, oh my god look at how much taller you are, did you do something to your hair because it looks much different. Anything interesting happen? I've got loads to tell you. Did you study? You should you know. It's OWL's next year. Mum took me shopping for studying material. I got so many books and I- " she continued in her ramblings.

"Woah. Take a breath, you're going to run out of air." Harry cut in at the chance. He was right, as soon followed was hermione's deep breaths.

"Good idea" she said in between gasps.

She had a slight blush in her cheeks, and Ron quickly spoke in edge ways before she continued on her ramblings.

"What took you so long mate? We thought you'd missed it, thought maybe you'd have to take dad's car again," he grinned, alluding to their second year.

Hermione just rolled her eyes at this, "Seriously Ron, I'd have thought you would have been out of this childishness by now," she continued,"It's OWL's next year, and I'm certainly studying for it".

Harry and Ron groaned in sync. Neither of them wanted to start studying for Owl's now. That was a long way away right? Hermione had started to show off her homework and study planners, and her new colour coordinated notepads.

The train ride continued like this, and even Malfoy hadn't interrupted them, which was a first, although welcome which had contributed to an uneventful train ride.

Later on, and as usual, as they rowed in, and the castle came into view, Hogwarts continued to astound, and he could hear the first years "Oohs" and "Aahs" as it came into view.

It was universal across all people of all origins, the appreciation of beauty, because what a sight it was to behold. The castle, so grand in its ministrations and yet cast away from prying eyes.

The moment was disrupted by a particular teacher.

"Right, first years, you'll be following me in the back entrance to be sorted into your houses," Mcgonnagal barked, and then looked to the older students and continued "Second years and up, please follow the prefects and Hagrid to the feast,"

At the mention of his name, Hagrid sprung up to action, "Ight, you'll be following me then," before leading them into the castle. Of course, not before even getting to school, Malfoy had tried to pick up a fight with someone.

"Weasley, picking friends with muggleborns are we?" Sneering at the name while looking at the redhead, "Look at the state of those rags, are those hand me downs? No wonder, you weasleys breed like rabbits".

The Weasley blushed slightly, before clenching his jaw, "Well at least my father didn't need to whore himself for the ministry after you-know-who, bet it took a lot of galleons to get your father out of that one" he shot back. A small swell of pride at his insult.

Harry just shook his head, Ron wasn't exactly one for subtlety.

A few snickers from the crowds that had circled them, a few sickles changing hands in anticipation for a fight.

"That's it," Malfoy said, his pride tarnished, before charging at Weasley, "No one insults my father".

"Leave it Malfoy, " spoke Harry, jumping between the two, before looking to Ron.

"Ron, come on, he's not worth it," he said pleadingly, "it's what he wants."

After they tried to depart the crowd, and turned their backs to Malfoy, which was a mistake. Spotting the chance, and obviously not giving it much thought, malfoy drew his wand, and shouted at the pair, "Immobu-". Malfoy, seemed to freeze, before falling over, someone had stunned him before he could finish the curse.

The crowd gasped, there was no clear attacker, and the Scion of Malfoy, indignantly lay on the floor, frozen. Before anyone could notice, McGonagall had noticed the commotion, she certainly didn't look happy.

With long strides, she dispersed the crowd with ease, before speaking softly, "What is the meaning of this?" She glowered at the crowd, before speaking the counter curse on Malfoy. Malfoy, jumped at the opportunity, "It was Ron, miss, he cursed me" McGonagall clearly didn't believe him, but arched an eyebrow at Ron. "Is this true Weasley?"

"It's not," Ron, spoke truthfully, McGonagall looked at both of them, and made her decision wanting to get this over with, "Any more funny business, and you'll be on the first train back, agreed?"

"Agreed" chimed both Ron and Draco, glaring at each other, with clear venom laced in their words.

Daphne quietly withdrew her wand into her holster, and grinned slightly at her non verbal incantation. Unknown to her, Harry had taken notice, and maybe started a bit longer than he should have, and had certainly raised an eyebrow. For lack of a better word, he was impressed.

**oOo**

Astoria P.O.V

She couldn't keep still, just so much energy that she had kept pent up. She had had a talk with her sister earlier, which had soothed her nerves very little. The sorting of houses was a grandiose moment for everyone. She had so wanted to be with her sister. God knows Daphne needed the support.

One by one the first years were called out, and she heard the cheers of the houses as McGonagall called them out one by one.

She looked around, she wasn't the only one that was nervous, many muggleborns had closed their eyes praying, and a few just seemed disinterested with the entire process. Her last name, "G" would be relatively close to the start, she must be soon. She had to be slytherin, she had to be. She couldn't imagine the face on her sister if she wasn't. She had to be.

"Milda Eves" McGonagall called, a small girl, with blond pigtails and a nervous look. Muggleborn, Astoria thought. She hadn't heard Eves in any of her pureblood gatherings, "HUFFLEPUFF" the hat called soon later, she tensed herself.

"Astoria Greengrass" called McGonagall, she cast a sympathetic look on her.

It was terrifying as she approached, all eyes on her as she approached the hat, she really didn't want to make a fool of herself. She cast her eyes at the Slytherin table, hoping for some comfort in her sister but couldn't find her through the crowds. She sat down and hoisted the hat on her head.

"Oh, a mind this one" it echoed in her head. "Interesting, very interesting indeed."

Was the hat thinking?

"Yes, I am thank you," The hat responded before continuing, "Poor dear, sorry about your mother, and your sister, she's very-" The hat didn't finish. It seemed it had found the memories about her sister, and it didn't seem like it was one of the kind ones.

"I see ambition, but I also see courage, tough, very tough. Bravery, I see. It seems like you want to be Slytherin, trust me dear, you'll be much better fit here unlike your sister. I think that settles it."

"GRYFFINDOR" it shouted, the Gryffindor table burst with applause. She found Daphne, and as she imagined, a crestfallen look on her face. Man that hurt, she hated that look, but a more pressing issue was raised. What would her father say about this?"

Her father had never explicitly encouraged house rivalry, but the Greengrass family had been Slytherins for generations. It had been like that for ages, her father didn't even think about the fact that she might be sorted in another house, much worse, Gryfindor.

"Bravery is just a nicer word for stupidity" her sister had often remarked about the house, whenever she shared stories about Gryffindor exploits or the like when Daphne came home for the summer.

Harry P.O.V

The feast had been going fairly well, although standards of 'well' were quite low, as long as no trolls or anything like that, it was good. Throughout the feast, he was snatching the occasional glances at Daphne on the Slytherin table, wary of the enigma.

It was interesting, at the least, as he had no reason to believe that she had any quarrel with the Malfoy, and yet had come to their aid. It might have been for personal gain, but yet had made no attempt to even mention doing so to him. It annoyed him to no end, and of course, staring at her was definitely no chore.

"Astoria Greengrass"

Harry looked up in surprise at the name Greengrass, he was pretty sure that was Daphne's sister. He only needed one look before confirming his assumption, she shared the same hair colour, blonde, and eye colour, which was a light blue. He smiled softly, this was going to be interesting at least.

It had been a few moments before the hat screamed, "GRYFFINDOR".

Certainly surprised at this, he had thought she would be Slytherin, like her sister. The claps died down quickly and the rest of the feast was a blur.

Dumbledore stood up on the podium, and with just a few chimes from his glass, he had captured the hall. Harry admired that kind of ability, as the only one who could command that kind of silence was Snape, and for the entirely wrong reasons.

Harry had largely ignored a large proportion of his speech, he sat, absentmindedly, before a tidbit of information captured his attention.

"I say, with great regret, that due to certain events in the near future, Quidditch has been

cancelled for the school year," Dumbledore only had to say quidditch and the hall was paying attention to his every word. Quidditch cancelled? it certainly didn't go down with any of the houses, with some complaining, rather loudly, among them, the Weasley twins, although this complaining was fairly unanimous.

Amongst the complaints Dumbleore continued, "I know, I know, but I have a feeling that this year might be even more fun," He continued, a twinkle in his eye, "and Hogwarts, ladies and gentlemen, will be the home for the first Triwizard tournament".

Silence. The entire great hall was on the cusp of an outbreak of noise, yet no one dared to break it. Then broke the whispers, and soon the shouting. Not many had heard of the "Triwizard tournament", Harry had only heard of it in his books, and even then the information was limited, with only a small paragraph dedicated to the topic.

From what he knew, it was certainly nothing to laugh at as people had died before, and he wondered what Dumbledore was playing at.

Seeing the silence, Dumbledore probably thought some explanation would be best. "The Triwizard tournament is a magical contest, of cunning, bravery, friendship, and ability," referencing the four houses before going on.

"The three largest magical schools in Europe will partake, Beauxbatons academy of magic and Durmstrang institute will be represented by one champion per school. These champions will contest in three challenges, picked from the goblet of fire, and the winner will win the Triwizard cup, a glory unbeheld since the 13th century, and 1000 galleons of prize money.

1000 galleons? That was a lot of money, and certainly enough to turn the tide on whether the tournament was a good thing and even Draco's eyes gleamed at the prospect.

Dumbledore continued. "One of the stipulations for the cup, as it is reserved for 7th years only."

The entire great hall groaned at that. No chance for the galleons after all.

Then Dumbledore did something rather unexpected. He clicked his fingers, and the halls candles went dark, but only for a second. He clicked again, and the lights back on, with one rather large change.

"The Goblet of fire" Dumbledore announced.

Harry just nodded. Dumbledore always had a flair for the dramatic. Of course, to be fair the goblet was quite dramatic, with wisps of blue flame landing on the floor nearby.

"Anyone who wishes to enter, and is of the required age, please enter your name before the 27th, and please, for those youngsters interested in joining, please be aware that I have made, some… modifications to the goblet." he said, with the patented twinkle in his eyes.

McGonnogal, quietly stood up and referenced Dumbledore to take a seat, "Right," composing herself, "That's enough excitement for one day. Hogwarts dismissed, please return to your dormitories in an orderly fashion, first years, find your nearest house perfect and follow them to the dormitories."

Harry quickly departed with Hermione to the dormitories, muttering the password they had overheard from some prefects and entered. As he glimpsed at Astoria coming in, part of Harry wanted to comfort her, and tell her it would be all right. That was a lie. Tensions between houses had never been higher, and knowing she came from a family of snakes wasn't exactly in her favour.

He shook his head, family shouldn't decide who you are, he was proof of that, and as Harry's slightly more contemptuous housemates walked by, most just gave Astoria a glare and some even had the audacity to hiss when they were walking by.

Harry seethed with anger, "What pompous brats," unfortunately for him, he realised he said that aloud, garnering the attention of his classmates, who simply just raised an eyebrow.

**oOo**

Before going to breakfast, hell even before anyone woke up, he went to the library. Hermione would be proud. He had sat all night, restless with the tournament, he couldn't just wait for it to happen.

As he entered the library, scouring the bookshelves for the book he was looking for, he heard an unlikely voice behind him.

"Fancy seeing you here potter," said an emotionless voice behind him, a quite pretty voice he thought. He looked up, only to see Daphne Greengrass. He was surprised by her appearance, he thought he had been alone. His face frowned in his distaste at the formalities, to be fair, they hardly interacted with each other, besides a few conversations if that.

Any friendship between Slytherin and Gryffindor was largely impossible on house rivalries, there was just too much history between them. Daphne had a reputation of being the Ice Queen, and of being very pretty, flocked by an entourage of boys, whom she often turned down. She had very few real friends like him, and he realised he'd been silent for the last few seconds and she was adamantly waiting for a response, looking at Harry.

"Um, Just looking for books on the Triwizard tournament, know any?" he asked.

"Sorry to disappoint Potter, I'm here for the same thing" she spoke quietly, which Harry found slightly odd as there was no one in the near vicinity, and yet kept what attention she got limited.

Maybe she was more like him than he thought.

"I mean, I guess, I should. Thank you for earlier," he said.

She raised her eyebrows, as if letting him finish.

"I mean Malfoy, I'm just surprised you did it and all," he mumbled quickly.

"Oh. You caught on then. That was nothing, I had to stop him before he made a greater fool than he was already, and worse, to our house."

Harry looked confused.

"I mean," Daphne said, "We know about what he does, him and his gang. It's amazing he's in Slytherin at all, no cunning, and the way he goes about things he should be in Gryffindor."

Harry didn't want to think about that whatsoever,

"I'd have thought that Slytherin would be behind him and all."

"Well, what do you know about me Potter?," she said, coming out slightly harsher than she intended.

Harry winced slightly, "Well, maybe we can change that, take down house rivalries. How about it?" He offered his hand.

He had absolutely no idea what had come over him to do that, he didn't even know this person, and yet he felt compelled to do so.

She cocked her head, she hadn't seen the conversation going this way, but to her surprise, and to his,

she took it.

And somewhere very far and deep inside both of them, an ember had started to burn.

**A/N Hello fellow reader, review if you want, I know I'm not that good, but it's worth a try. I have a school thing, end of middle school and all of that so that's why I didn't post for a bit. Good day!**


	3. ChapterIII

**A Chance Encounter III**

— — — — — — — — —

**"I have never met my education interfere with my schooling"**

**\- Mark Twain**

**A/N Read and Review.**

— — — — — — — — —

"Ron, please eat with your mouth closed," said a familiar bushy-haired friend, who had a look of pure distaste plastered onto her face.

Ron paid her no attention, as it seemed all of that was reserved for his chicken wing, or what was left of it anyway.

The great hall was empty, or as empty as it could get in the mornings, and she still hadn't seen Harry yet. He just might be having a lie in, she mused, although that certainly didn't convince her. Trouble just had a way of finding him.

Coming into the great hall, Harry's mouth had tugged upwards slightly. It was an interesting conversation with Daphne at least, whom had left quickly after the handshake.

Hermione's eyes had barely darted to him before she said, "Oh Harry where were you? And why.. do you look so happy?"

Harry just winked at her before sitting beside Ron leaving a confused Hermione behind.

It only took him a moment of looking at Ron's eating before he scrunched up his face. "Ron, save some for the rest of us will you?"

Ron just blushed slightly, and mumbled something about chicken.

"I'm just hungry, Harry'' he muttered quietly. Unfortunately for him, not quiet enough.

"You're always hungry Ron. The entire school knows your hungry, bloody hell, the entire world."

"Jesus Harry, you're become like hermione." he said, putting down his chicken wing. "Where were you Harry? We were waiting for a while. She might not admit it, but Hermione was worried sick about you".

Was.. that jealousy Harry heard? Harry smiled softly. As fate would have it, Daphne entered, and Harry's eyes lingered only slightly longer than he should have.

He was a hormonal teenager. What did you expect?

Daphne, however, paid him no attention, to his dismay. Although he wasn't surprised, the Slytherin table was like a wolf's den, and any emotional cues, such as wandering eyes, or even a subtle blush, would be pounced on like a lion and it's prey.

Befriending a Gryfindor? Social suicide.

Later on, and after Hermione was done reciting and memorising the timetable that McGonagall had handed out, there was just one thing that raised her eyebrows.

"Mad Eye Moody is the new defense teacher, I've never heard of him." Hermione said.

Ron's eyes widened a little. "Mad Eye Moody? My dad says he's brilliant, a bit mad, but brilliant."

"Mad?" Hermione asked, a gleam in her eye.

"Oh yeah. Though he has every right to be. Been through the first wizarding war and all that, lost a leg in it too. Took down a lot of dark wizards too. It took them like, 4 or 5 to bring him down. Still got away with it though, I mean not his leg obviously."

"That's terrible" squeaked Hermione.

The boys just grinned at each other.

"But he wasn't at the feast, and no one has even heard of him. So why wouldn't he be there?" she said. "You'd think someone would be looking for him?"

The boys had no answer for that.

"As long as he's not casting hexes at us, he can't be much worse than the last defense teachers right?" Harry quizzed.

Harry was wrong. Horribly wrong.

**oOo**

It had been a minute. Then it was 5. Then it had been 10 minutes since the Gryffindors and Slytherins sat patiently, or as patiently they could be, waiting for their defense professor.

Very few knew who this "Mad-eye" was, so it just added to the mystery a bit more.

With a combination of boredom and an excited energy, the class soon descended into chaos.

If one had been looking carefully, which they weren't, they would have noticed a slight shimmer in the light, a slightly fuzzed patch of reality, in contrast with other patches of clarity.

There was a slight scream of the old nails as the door swung open, ever so slightly.

The sliver of light guided itself slowly to be back of the classroom.

**oOo**

Fortunately for Daphne, talking with the other Slytherins weren't her, how could she put this, her most keenest of options, especially Malfoy, who seemed perfectly content talking with Crabbe, or was it Goyle?

It had caught the edge of her mind. At first she thought that was a figment of her imagination.

Was it her or had the class got colder?

It was completely out of the blue, the slight shimmer. The class was in chaos, so no one else had any hope of noticing it. Was it moving?

It was moving. She could see it glide itself down the classroom. An invisibility cloak? But they were incredibly expensive and even rarer. She sat still in her chair, and anyone who might have paid her attention would have noticed something was wrong, but she blended into the background perfectly.

The sliver moved beside her, and she swear she could feel it brush her chair. She shuddered slightly.

She took out her wand slowly from her robe handle, gripping it in a tight sheath. Her hands were trembling.

"Stop it" she told herself. This was just stupid, it was probably nothing. But was it?

But then again, with Harry in the room, yes she had taken notice of him, she consoled her.. more primal mind. Crazy for them was the norm.

Disregarding all forms of logic, she raised her wand, pointing at where she suspected the person to be. The class was abysmally unaware, and her logical thinking mind was running through the situation.

A stunning curse? But what if the cloak had shields, a disarming curse? That's a bit better, although she would like a right fool if she was imagining it. But a slight gut feeling told her she wasn't.

But where was Mad-Eye Moody?

Of course she had heard of him, her father used to be good friends with him, and to put it frank, never shut up about him. Her mother, on the other hand, often told the two sisters stories about him, his amazing adventures, and even had assumed a sort of hero's worship for Astoria.

Her mother. She felt a soft pang of sorrow. It was a long time ago, she consoled herself. There was no point reminiscing now.

She gazed at the shimmering light, raised her wand ever so slightly and murmured the words, "Expelliarmus".

A 9 inch wand, lay in her outstretched hand. Was it her or was the class deathly silent?

Oh. The class was quiet. Was that fear in their eyes? She figured it out at that moment. She had made a mistake. A big one at that. The class wasn't looking at her. They were looking at a slightly disheveled Mad-Eye moody.

**oOo**

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE" he screamed. The third time in the past few minutes. She had it ingrained in memory by this point. His swearing could curdle milk.

Was it her or did he look slightly amused?

When she had disarmed him, he hadn't been angry, or ashamed, in fact he had been deathly silent. The tension at that point would have been cuttable in thin strokes by a knife.

As she watched, she noted his eyes had a slight glow to them, and when he had asked for his wand back she wanted to cower at the sight. She felt.. examined, as if under inspection under a microscope of his.

When he had asked why she had done that, she wanted to run, run far away and never come back. Of course, she didn't show any of this. Occlumency had its benefits, and she had been learning it for a long time, and emotional control was one of the key aspects to it.

Daphne kept a stoic face, she didn't want the others to see what she was feeling.

Despite the slight frown on Draco's face she had kept herself outside of detention. Constant vigilance and all that.

**oOo**

Harry just watched in awe. Had Daphne just stunned the defense teacher? And from what Ron had told him, a good one no less.

And.. she had gotten away with it. She was even praised for her "Constant vigilance" whatever that meant.

Mad-Eye later explained later he had been under the disillusionment charm, a test he called it, although no one believed it.

Paranoid bastard.

He even.. praised Daphne, for her "constant vigilance". Mad-eye had a habit of screaming that in their faces, although he gave no intentions to them what it meant. Maybe he would ask Hermione.

Hermione, however, looked like she had seen a ghost. She was pale, deathly pale. There was no colour to her cheeks, and she gripped the edges of the table until her knuckles went white.

He tried to make eye contact with her, although she seemed to be ignoring him. She only averted her gaze to daphne, glaring at her.

Apparently disarming the teacher didn't exactly put you in her good books. No surprise there.

Mad-Eye quickly regained the attention of the class, with a few words.

"So. You lot have been assigned to me for the rest of the year, and I expect no fooling from any of you. Dumbledore has called in an old favour, but I expect no slacking from anyone here. I've been informed, that we even have our own special golden boy here."

The class was quiet, and Mad-Eye gazed at Harry. Harry shivered, the mans sight bore through him. the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He felt examined, as if he was on another horrible doctors appointment.

He felt like glass, and Mad-Eye was just peering right through him, his stare splitting the glass open for all to see.

"Dumbledore says I shouldn't be teaching dark curses until next year, but Dumbles word isn't everything. Is it?"

No one dared to answer him.

He gave an approving nod. "Has anyone heard of the unforgivable curses?"

Hermione's hand shot up, and surprisingly, Daphnes.

"Yes. Blondie there."

Hermione, with a dejected look, lowered her hand. Her glare at Daphne only seemed to intensify.

Daphne decided she didn't like the nickname.

"The unforgivable curses, sir, are classified as unforgivable and attached to its use is a lifetime in Azkaban. They are tools for the dark arts, primarily to torture, kill, or control."

"Nearly right there, Blondie,".

She certainly didn't like that name, and if he didn't shut up about it, she was tempted to give him something worse than just a disarming curse.

"You are of course correct in its classification, however they are not merely tools for the dark arts. The unforgivables aren't the only spells designed to torture or kill others. Even the first spell taught here, Wingardium Leviosa can kill people from high heights. Or perhaps an anvil to the head. What I am saying is there is no good and evil, only magic."

Mad-Eye continued. "To show this, I'll demonstrate its effects to you. Has anyone heard of the Imperius curse?".

No one raised their hands.

Disgruntled that no had raised their hands, Mad-Eye muttered, "perhaps a practical demonstration is in order. Any volunteers?"

Again, no one raised their hands.

Mad-Eye now looked fairly annoyed at this point, "Blondie, come up here".

He didn't even give her a look edgeways. She of course, knew what the imperius curse was, and was disgusted he'd even think of using it.

It was a horrible form of evil. It created a link between the minds of the user and the victim, and as magic can not be simply controlled, both magics from either person battle for supremacy. I'm essence, those truly talented in the arts can peer in the others soul.

"Now blondie, when I say the words, you'll feel a slight tug in your mind. Fight. Back."

Mad-Eye looked truly mad. With a slightly lopsided grin, and even now she couldn't tell whether it was benign or predatory. He grinned and muttered the words,

"Imperio".

**oOo**

It was nice, Daphne thought. She was in a state of euphoria, she felt content with everything. So much so, she forgot about everything else.

"Come on Daphne. You're better than this," A soft voice spoke, "Fight back".

She felt a tug in her mind. That was what Mad-Eye must have been describing. It felt as if it was pulling her towards it, repelling all sorts of logical thought. How much she just wanted to let go, and to embrace it.

When she close it spoke. "Jump up". it's voice so soft and mellow, she just wanted to grab it and pull it in close.

"Daphne, you're not going to jump up." The other voice said firmly.

"Jump up girl." The voice spoke, it's voice more harsh, and she could feel a sort of suction pulling her in.

Another voice called to her, it felt familiar to her, as if on the top of her tongue. "Use your occlumency," it whispered, before leaving.

Why hadn't she thought of that before. Well actually, she did. She raised her shields, putting a bit more effort in doing so than she normally had to do.

Her memory palace, or the form her soul had taken the form of, was the Greengrass palace. She had committed every detail to memory, from the most obscure details, the smell of green grass, the irony wasn't lost on her, or the long expanse of the fields. It was where she felt like home.

The tug became weaker, "Stop this girl," it said.

Later on, she would realise Mad-Eye was good, better than he let on. Once he knew she had a basic grasp on occlumency, he began using legilimency.

She could feel the tug of both sides, pulling her in. It was painful, suctioning every joint, tugging to both sides, as if in a horrific game of tug and war, each side pushing with its magical might, and any longer she felt as if she'd be split open.

It couldn't even be described as a tug

anymore. It was a tidal wave full of magic, whoever this Mad-Eye was, he was more powerful than she gave him credit for. He had completely bypassed all her defenses, and didn't even bat an eye.

She couldn't find the attacker, or whatever Mad-Eye's form had assumed. She searched the castle in her mind's eye, and she came up blank.

But she knew he was in, or what was the tug?

Her insides boiled inside, her pain swelling like a balloon. She felt violated, he had complete rein over her. She couldn't fight back.

Powerless. She was powerless.

"Where was he?" She growled. She was going to find him. He'd be sorry, when she found him, if she found him.

Then her world became white. She stumbled and collapsed on the floor. Flash after flash. It was her memories.

Was he looking through her memories? How dare he? Who does he think he is?

He rummaged through the memories like fodder, peering into them and into her soul, her privacy was completely disregarded, and the worst thing, was that she could do nothing about it.

"GET OUT" she screamed.

"That's better girl, fight back." The voice teased.

Fight back? Oh she would show him that she'd fight back. She wasn't heir to the Greengrass throne for no reason.

She found the tug, and did something rather unexpected. She ran at it.

She ran at it, at the breadth of her speed, her joints were screaming for air, and even her desperate gulps did little to satisfy them.

Running faster then she could handle, gliding across the air with a snarl on her face.

She concentrated the magic of her palace, her magical core, into her fist, and barrelled towards the tug, which had taken the form of a black mass, and punched it and shoved the mass with her entire essence with everything she had.

**oOo**

The class, including Harry, was looking at them in bewilderment. Both Daphne and Mad-Eye Moody were panting, and both had refused to say anything about what they just did.

Mad-Eye didn't call up any more "volunteers" and had continued the class as if nothing had happened.

"That was definitely a memorable first lesson" said Tracy, "You going to tell me what that was all about?"

Daphne just smirked, "No, I don't think I will."

"No fair," Tracy pouted.

Mad-Eye was certainly a good teacher, Daphne thought, and he possessed a certain aura that demanded respect from the class. Tracy had told him he once taught aurors in the academy, and Daphne could definitely see why.

He maybe didn't have the same flair of teaching like lupin, or the certain swagger of lockheart, and certainly not a love for children. But what the man had, was a passion for magic, going on about it for minutes on end, and a passion for the defences against the dark arts.

As she was leaving the classroom, Mad-Eye called Daphne over after the lesson ended and whispered to her.

Her eyes tightened up. She called to her friend, "Go on without me Tracy,"

"Why?" she replied with visible confusion, her demeanour shifted within moments.

"I'll be at class in a few minutes. Trust me". she said pleadingly to her friend.

Tracy just shrugged her shoulders and went down the stairs, thinking Daphne just needed her alone time.

When her classmates were gone, and it was just her and Moody, she spoke. "Why did you want me sir?".

He leaned back into his chair, looked into her eyes, and sat there for a few moments before replying. "I was wondering, and I hoped you could key me in, who taught you occlumency like that?".

"Myself sir. I mean, self taught." She hastily replied. What business did he have in knowing?

"Hmph. No teacher eh? Impressive for a youngling like you. I see a bit of myself in you."

She didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

"Take it as a compliment son." reading her face. Was she that easy to read?

"I'm not your son." She replied, what was he getting at?

"Forgive me. When you get to my age, you see everyone as children. I'll get to the point then. When I was a bit younger, my school teachers took protégés, if you will, I was one myself. I, myself, didn't think they were any good, and far too slow, but old man dumbles thinks I should renew the tradition. I think you can see where I'm getting at."

She did. "Why me sir?"

"It's your eyes."

"My eyes sir?" She replied. She hadn't expected such a response.

He replied softly.

"I see rage in them."

**A/N Hello fellow reader, review if you want, and yes, I'm aware of my terrible upload schedule, I'll try to remedy that. Mad-eye is going to be a much more important character. With COVID-19 that's going around, I'm off from school, so hopefully it'll be better. Good day!**


	4. CHIV

**A Chance Encounter: IV**

**— — — — — **

**"In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years." **

**Abraham Lincoln**

**A/N Read and review, it really is such a small thing, I know I'm not exactly a very good writer but I try, and even if the review is a howler, they will all be treasured. **

To Sir Gewen E. Luck, that plot idea you mentioned, of Daphne becoming a potential death eater, might be a little too sidetracked, even for my taste.

— — — — — — —

Astoria drummed her fingers against the top of her charms notepad, reviewing her notes for the fourth time already, but in actuality her thoughts were a million miles away.

Her eyes darting to the clock briefly every few minutes, charms was a bore. No doubt about it. She hadn't spoken a word since coming in, and she planned to keep it that way. Being alone, it was just much more satisfying for her.

She hadn't spoken much since her time at Hogwarts, but to little fault of her own, her classmates hadn't exactly been enjoying her company, and really she couldn't blame them.

She could be.. intimidating at times, and as her family being in the sacred 28, let's just say she didn't have a whole bunch of friends outside of her social circle. Worse still, she had yet found the nerve to approach Daphne at lunch times.

Where was this Gryffindor courage when it was needed? What would she say? Astoria knew she hated Gryfindors with a passion, so what would she say about her being one?

She was the snake in the lion's den, and she was afraid she was going to be eaten.

Someone had tapped her gently, bringing her thoughts a little closer to home, but just before she gave the victim her patented deathly glare, she had noticed it was the professor.

"Ms Greengrass, please refrain from daydreaming in our class, charms is a dangerous subject" Flitwick interjected, before resuming in his lecturing state.

She snorted. Dangerous subject? What was she going to do? Tickle someone to death?

"... The levitation spell, or otherwise known as Wingardium Leviosa, is most commonly used for the levitation of small objects…" he began.

Astoria had zoned out again, and she was desperately trying to keep herself awake, but even that seemed to be too much trouble. The pulling of her eyelids seemed to be too much of an effort to contend with.

As destiny would have it, and after a rather large explosion, which left a boy - gryffindor by his red emblem, singed in the parting smokes, she was most certainly awake.

In a slight jest, flitwick tried to remedy the situation, "Please no laughing, this is quite a common result for charms work, and might I say some of you in the later future might be the victim of."

But the class gave him no heed, and in turn continued to embarrass the boy, who, if he could shrivel up any further, might be shrivelling up into a cocoon.

Of course, this didn't bode well with the younger heir of Greengrass, she smiled, yes, but to laugh at him? They had been learning magic for like a total of ten minutes? She knew what it felt to be ostracised by her peers, but she was stuped. She wanted to help the boy, she did, and if she was being honest, a bit of revenge after they had so kindly left her out in the common room.

But coming out and shouting over her classmates of injustice wouldn't exactly help. She came from a house of Slytherins, the house of the cunning, she could do better than this.

And over the next few minutes, she began forming a plan, she scribbled some notes to the boy, and charmed the paper, which promptly folded itself into a paper aeroplane before departing over her classmates' oblivious shoulders.

It landed into the lap of the boy, who promptly then, with an inquisitive eye, read the layed out instructions and smiled.

This was going to be fun.

After a few minutes, and several explosions later, of which some feathers, they just seemed to explode one by one. It was music to her ears. It was a tragedy really, an accident. Some of which had created quite a mess, and quite a few egos put in their places, flitwick called for her after class had finished, sobering her up immediately.

He spoke with an air about him, one that held a child-like and appeasing tone, and yet still implied the authority between the two.

"Very impressive charm work, Mrs Greengrass, although please refrain from any more... situations with your classmates."

His words were serious, although his face clearly didn't show it. In fact, if she had to guess, and her guesses were usually correct, he didn't seem to mind. Playfulness. She liked that about people. She smiled, and gave him a mock salute before leaving the classroom.

Just outside the door, and to her dismay, were 3 of the Gryffindor boys, and from what she could tell, they didn't look happy. By her best guess, they were a bit older than her, 3rd or 4th years maybe.

She spoke first in the edgeways. "Hello boys, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

The largest one of the lot, and the one she thought was the leader of this rut spork first, and she certainly didn'tthink it was to compliment her fabulous looks.

Well her sister may be the ice queen, but she was definitely not one to be toyed with.

"We just wanted to remind you that we don't lightly take, traitors" he lingered on the word, "In our house."

Who the hell did he think he was?

"Pompous brat" she muttered under her breath. Unfortunately for her, not quite enough.

The boy sidestepped to staring at her in the face. She could feel his hot breaths baring down on her face, the intensity of the glares he was sending her, had no effect, and her face was rather emotionless.

She was frightened, easily, she'd be a fool not to be, but if she wasn't going to stand up to them now, when would she?

"Want to say that to my face, little girl?"

It all happened so quickly, that she could barely react, least of all stop it. The boy tried to pull on her hair, he was quick for sure, but before he could she could do anything to curb his advances, she heard a voice vaguely familiar.

"Stupefy"

The other boy collapsed, a smirk still registered on his face, as he tumbled from grace, rather

inelegantly, she thought.

Her saviour, stepped from the shadows.

Harry Potter. Harry bloody Potter. She had butterfly's in her stomach. Was she nervous?

Of course she was. Hell, she had read entire books on him, wizarding saviour and all that.

"You lot, if you know what's good for you, run." He said softly, with a little bit too much venom in them than she had expected, although it seemed to do the trick.

'That was menacing' she thought, and put a mental note never to get on his bad side.

She watched the boys face contort in confusion, unsure of what to, but they got the message. And run they did, far past the corridors and into the warm embraces of their mothers, metaphorically speaking.

Harry chuckled. "I'm not that scary am I?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. If I got my hands on those buggers, I'd rip them to pieces."

With such pure conviction in her voice, Harry had no trouble believing her. Despite Harry being about a foot taller, and despite her looking much more innocent despite imagining tearing them to pieces. In fact, he was starting to take a few steps back, and wondered if it was those boys who were the ones who really needed saving.

"But anyway," her sweet, innocent voice had returned, "I really must thank you for this, I appreciate it, I really do".

"Ah, it was nothing, really, I was just walking by. Anyone would have done the same."

"Humble arse," she said under her breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Oh, nothing" she gave him an innocent, but fake smile.

"I saw you at the feast earlier. Sorry but you're Daphne's sister aren't you?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Just in blood, trust me, we're not alike. She scares me. Honestly, I'd be wary of that one."

"Sor-" he started.

"Stop saying sorry!" She near shouted, rolling her eyes.

He jumped slightly, "Oh right, sor-."

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes, boys were a bit stupid. What was she thinking? Damn near all the time, but for the moments that aren't.. that's why she kept them around.

"I'm sure Daphne can't be that bad," he asked, although even he could feel the question tone in his voice.

"On first names terms are we?" she quizzed playfully.

"Well… no, but I mean - " fumbling over his speech.

"I'm just messing with you. Let's start over. Astoria Greengrass, witch extraordinaire and second heir to the Greengrass family - at your service." She gave a small mock curtsy.

Harry chuckled. "I'm Harry Potter, but my friends call me Harry."

She smiled. "Hello Pot-, Harry" she corrected with a smile, "thank you for this, they just didn't seem to get the message. I guess I'll be seeing you more often." With that she turned and left, but before she left, she heard him call,

"Oh, Astoria, what were those boys after?"

She felt her stomach drop, and felt a small pang in her heart. He didn't know. She didn't want to lose her first friend this early, but she guessed he was going to find out one way or another.

"... Well," she stuttered, oh stop stuttering for gods sake, "My family, they've been Slytherins for generations, I guess I'm just the black sheep." She said, with a softer voice to her earlier act.

He smiled a knowing smile.

"Those idiots, what are they playing at? Blood shouldn't matter, family neither, trust me I'd know. always remember that, it's in the heart."

Damn Gryffindor and their heartfelt speeches. Would she turn out like that? By gods she would never hear the end of it from her family.

Yet despite her, she smiled, and her ears perked at that, maybe she wouldn't be losing a friend early.

And with that impromptu speech, Harry left, leaving them both with smiles on her face.

**oOo**

Daphne never liked to be special. Nor being singled out. In fact, she was always the one destined to be the ones behind the scenes. The ones who operated behind the curtains, and letting the spotlight target someone else. It was always said that the men in their suits were the ones in power, but she knew better. She knew, it was always the wives behind the scenes, who seemed to be making no impact, were the ones making the most.

She liked it that way, isolation was always seen to her as a safe haven, where there was no social convention or rules or things to follow.

When she was alone, she was free. As simple as that. No complexity, but just a simple life.

Being dependent on anyone was a weakness, something only that was further emphasised as a Slytherin, and as she grew to knew over the years that people can only let you down, and when they do, you should not be taken for surprise.

She knew before school, that she'd keep her head down, obey the rules and make no trouble. Her father, despite taking no roles in her life whatsoever, had expected this much of her, and she knew the expectations, and she deemed to rise above them.

But when she had lost control of herself in that mangy old room, something had awoken inside of her. That rush. Being the one in power. The one in control.

She hated it.

She wondered over the brief conversation, and recalled the dreaded words, the words that made her heart sink.

"_I see rage in them"_

What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?

She had no rage. A temper, sometimes, and mainly when Tracy was on her nerves, and even then she was normally in control. So what rage?

Maybe he just had a flair for the dramatic? she mused, but that wasn't it, the words, they just seemed to resonate with her.

_"I see rage in them"._

**oOo**

"Oi, I look nice, yea'?" Tracy asked, appearing from gods know where and sat herself on the couch at leisure.

Had it really been that long? When had she entered the common room? By god she was losing it. At this rate she'd have to check herself into Madam Pomfrey.

"Of course." Daphne said, without looking up from her potions book.

"Oh come on dude, get off that pish posh, we were making real progress last year, come on, look at me, I look nice, yeah?" Tracey asked with a hopeful look.

Daphne looked up this time.

Tracey looked terrible, she was wearing a horrid leather jacket and white shirt, that creased on the corners, with black trousers that seemed a size too small, and it just seemed to be, how to put this gently? off. It looked like a child's impression of a suit, but maybe that was what Tracey was going for. It was a wonder that the girl was in Slytherin.

"It looks lovely." Daphne complimented.

For a man, that was.

"What's the occasion?" Daphne asked, with half a heart in the conversation. Her thoughts elsewhere.

"Blaise, asked me to dinner, cool inni't? Gettin' food from the kitchen and everything."

She wore a dreamy look.

Daphne just cringed. "... You're having dinner, with your ex-boyfriend?" she asked with an incredulous tone.

"Oh come off it, we both know, that'ch you not as innocent as you seem to be. Mark my words I'll prove you right."

Daphne just raised her eyebrows. "I'm not going to apologise for being above that kind of thing. That kind of thing, - it's a waste of time." she replied factually.

"Ah you'll come round. And you'll come running."

Daphne just rolled her eyes. Tracey had seemed hellbent on her love life, and this year hadn't exactly changed that, and yet despite Daphne curbing any sort of conversation on the topic, she just didn't seem give it up. If any other person had even dared to bring up the topic, she'd have sent them wallowing, but it was Tracey, and she gave her childhood friend her allowances.

She watched her friend relax on the couch, reclining, without a care in the world, sipping a beverage, water, but knowing Tracey it was probably something stronger.

They had been raised together, went shopping together, amd basically lived together, and yet were so different, in so many ways. While Tracey enjoyed the presence of others, she grew to resent it. Any sort of social occasion, and despite Daphne's status only attended once or twice a month, at the request of her father. Maybe that was why her only friend in the world was sitting across from her.

After a few moments, Tracey smirked and left, probably in favour of flirting with the other boys in the common room.

Minutes later, when Daphne dared hoped she had finally reached her moments of peace, had noticed Pansy who seemed to be walking towards her, and by the gods she wasn't in the mood. She was no gossip girl.

Daphne glared at her, reminding Pansy of the slippery slope she currently resided of, but to her credit, flinched very little.

"Please, Pansy, if you have come to make me aware of any recent escapades with your little friend Draco, I'm not interested."

Pansy smiled and pouted her lips, she looked absolutely terrible when she did that but no one had the heart to tell her. Or they just didn't care enough. Daphne was one of the latter.

Pansy, seemingly ignored her, oblivious to the death glare Daphne was giving, and if looks could kill, she'd be 5 feet under. Yet she answered straight to the point.

"It happened! Me and Draco I mean, he felt me up in the astronomy tower. Can you believe it?"

_Jesus Christ._

After running her head for a list of profanities suitable for the occasion, Daphne looked at Pansy. Her small pigtails cast over the side of her shoulders, the skirt just above the knee, and a shirt with one too many buttons undone.

_Slu-_

"Oh don't give me that look, I bet you're jealous of me and Draco. You just want we have."

Daphne just gave a knowing smile. She knew the pining looks Draco gave her way, and Pansy just seemed oblivious to her being second choice.

But she didn't see a point of telling this point of information, and kept her head high and didn't say a word. Pansy left without a word, and she was alone.

She had spoken too soon.

"Draco. For the love of the gods, and for the sakes of any future Malfoy Jr's, go away"

She'd be doing the world a favour anyway.

She could see him visibly shudder, and he lost the smile for a second, but another, more flirtatious smile had taken its place. "I just want to talk."

_Oh for fuc-_

**oOo**

With the arrival of the two schools who wished to contend with Hogwarts in the Triwizard tournament, soon came the rumours. She had heard about the champions, and whatnot, all that that gossip churning out of the insecure girls bedrooms. She couldn't care about it any less. 'Keep her head down, get good grades, and you'll be ok', she muttered to herself.

After a hard day's work of potions, she had created a calming potion, a thin water like solution with silver vapour. She had even been rewarded with a complimenting nod when Snape had come to inspect, so it must have been damn near perfect.

It had nearly all been for loss, as Goyle, who had as much skill in potion as his friend Crabbe, whom both lowered the IQ of the entire castle, had seemingly mixed up the powered moonshine stones and the fluxweed, creating rather disastrous results, and had collapsed on her desk, sending everything scattered.

Well after the lesson had finished, she had forgotten her potion equipment and had gone back for it, seemingly unaware of the conversation she had stumbled onto.

"... Not feel it gettin' stronger Severus?" Asked a man, Karkaroff.

"I have seen this, my friend, and I fear the dark lord is getting stronger, but you mustn't tell a soul, and most of all, Dumbledore can not know."

Snape seemed.. worried, an emotion she thought wasn't capable of the man. In fact he seemed damn right nervous , the complexity of his skin was lighter in tone, and he looked.. frightened.

Anyone else, and she would have felt sorry for the man.

She couldn't see Snape's acquaintance, but she could tell from the trembles of his voice he was in no better shape than her head of house.

"... Do you think master will forgive me?" he seemed.. hopeful.

"I would definitely think not, after that debacle, I'd say in hindsight Azkaban would have been a much more pleasant alternative. You had betrayed him, and the dark lord does not see kindly to betrayal."

"What could I have done Severus? The ministry would have taken everything, that scum, Lucius, he doesn't exactly seem to be taking his part of the blame."

Snape smiled. "Ah, my friend, Lucius is rich. And with money, comes power. That power, is something you or I can never seek to have."

"Then I must run" said a grave Karkaroff.

Snape's reply didn't lose a beat.

"Please do. You wouldn't last 6 months."

"Then what would you have me do?" desperation was rampant in his voice.

"Lay low for the time being, and if must be, seek asylum in another country. Otherwise I have no further advice for you. I have a place in London, and I see this as a debt repaid, if must be, you may seek asylum there, although I daren't say it will do much."

"So you have lost hope for me this quickly?"

Snape replied quickly and without hesitation.

"Yes."

He continued.

"Now, I must go, Dumbledore seeks my attendance, something to do with that Potter brat."

Daphne froze. If he was leaving, there was no way she could explain her way out of this. She did the only thing she could do, she ran.

**oOo**

The night was silent, caressing his skin like a cool summer breeze, lightening the soul with its touch. The figure wore a complete dark robe, disguising himself, fading in the shadows, there was no need of course, the castle and its residents had long been subdued by the tempting mistress of the night, but one could never be too careful.

In the dark, he could sense the fire, the magic so vibrant in the air he could, sense it, feel it. He blinked. He was getting carried away, the steps to the goblet were long ones, and with each passing stride the beat of his heart quickened like the beat of the drums, and the final arc, the crescendo was pacing.

He stared into the blue flames, a serenity about it, adorning the hall walls with a silhouette, a fire filled of passion, changing and moving like the flow of a river moving downstream, threatening to take him off balance.

His hands moved to his robe pocket, slowly taking the wand out of his pocket, and with a whisper barely audible in the night, he cast the necessary spells, and cast the piece of paper with a name written into the blue flames, before sinking and dissolving into the fire.

_Harry Potter_

**oOo**

The Great hall was silent. Daphne swore she could hear the breathing of the entire hall, the silence so palpable, it felt she could reach out and grab it one hand. All three schools crammed into a hall fit for a third of the size.

The Goblet of Fire flickered from the blue flames, flames that crackled in the open air, and the goblet was adorned with gold etchings, and despite being far enough away to recognise them, she could at least appreciate its beauty.

The hall watched Dumbledore, taking his time with things, as if teasing them all. He put on his reading glasses, held up his paper, and began his speech.

"I am sure you are all aware of why I have asked you in here, for today we announce the champions of each respective school. It is a time of- "

He chuckled.

"... I'm sure you don't want to listen to an old man talk about such things, but please indulge me for a moment. There will come a time, when we must remember such a moment, and I dare hope when that time comes we can remember these moments in a positive light. But those are matters for another time.

Please, have an applause for the champion of Beauxbatons,"

The fire cackled, and spewed a piece of paper, singed by the fires, and with a finesse Dumbledore she hadn't thought possible of the old man, caught the piece of paper. He would have been a wonderful seeker back in the day, Daphne wondered.

"The champion is… Fleur delacour."

A large round of applause, and just a few catcalls, from the other side of the hall, a very fit, and posies french teenager arose from the crowds. Dumbledore courteously kissed her hand, and guided her to the back room.

After Viktor Crum was chosen, the audience was near leaping out of their seats, a match awaiting to a flame. Galvanising into a fire.

"The third and final champion, for the Hogwarts Triwizard tournament… is Cedric Diggory"

The crowd leapt into applause, but the fire still cackled, and yet another piece of paper, dangling in the air made the crowd sit into their seats, quietening any cheers for the hufflepuff boy.

Dumbledore approaches the dangling piece of paper, his face matched with both apprehension and a child like curiosity. He handled the paper closely, and read the words that changed everything.

"There.. is a fourth champion, the goblet has chosen. The fourth champion… is Harry Potter."

**oOo**

Harry knew that his name in the goblet would never have gone down well with his peers, he had tried arguing out of it, but it was a magically-binding-contract, whatever that meant. In layman terms, there was no way out. These cultivation of events had led to the very fateful day in the hall.

"Hermione please, you must know I didn't put my name in the goblet." he pleaded with her for what seemed like ages, her look hurt him more than any word could.

It was a look of disgust.

He was making a scene. He knew that. All the houses knew that, as they listened to their long tirades and back and forth for the past fifteen minutes in the great hall.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't say I agree with you. You've been awfully distant lately, and it always seems convenient that the world revolves around you. It was written in your handwriting and -"

"That could be fake! - "

"And for what reason Harry? I don't see why anyone would fake that. I'm sorry Harry, but logically, it's conclusive." she said in a factual, but cold voice.

"So stuck on the principles of logic, that you would choose it over friendship?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I don't expect what else you think I'd do." She huffed and left.

His heart dropped, the sudden pain in his rib cage was unbearable. His eyes watered, not here, he mentioned to himself. Not here. Everyone was looking at him, he couldn't cry here, he had to get out of here. He trusted his friends, he would go as far as to say he would die for them if need be, he just couldn't.

Ron, who was stuck in thinking of whether to follow her, or stay, and the confusion was displayed all over his face.

"Bloody hell Harry, you could've told me how to get past that age line, blimey, I could'a won that. We could 'ave done that together. Friends aren't supposed to do that to each other..."

Ron continued his speech, but Harry wasn't listening. He couldn't. His voice was dripping with sincerity, and yet it seemed like a massive slap in the face.

Just like that, in an apparent stroke of bad luck, the two friends that meant most to him, were lost, cindered in the ashes of the fire.

He had the worst luck in the world.

It was all just so stupid.

**oOo**

Harry wanted to go to Hagrid's, to find any sort of comforting voice, but he would collapse and couldn't bear it if Hagrid didn't believe him, and decided to not tempt fate any longer.

That was why, on a perfectly good day, he was sitting by the old maple tree that adorned the court yard, outside of the clutches and rumours of Hogwarts.

Here, alone, he was free. Away from it al.

He couldn't stand it, the side looks, the subtle pushes of his former house and friends. Hadn't the fates punished him enough?

Was all of this really worth saving?

Of course it was, he scolded himself. Of course it was.

But he was so very tired.

He had lost his family, any remnants of it, and now his most treasured item, beyond any materialism could offer him, his friends, were lost, like sand slipping through his fingers.

At least he had butterbeer. Maybe he could drink himself into sweet oblivion.

_Thanks Dobby, _he muttered.

"Oh I think you may have misheard, my name is Daphne."

He chuckled slightly, but straightened himself.

"Have you come to accuse me? because if you are, I'd appreciate it if you left. I've had enough of that already."

She was aristocratically poised, and took his answer as a motion to sit beside him under the maple tree.

She motioned for a butterbeer.

"May I?"

She wanted butterbeer? Unbelievable. He'd never understand women. Or people for that matter.

"Yeah, sure whatever" he replied nonchalantly.

"So do you think you'll win it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And here I was thinking you'd ask me how I did it."

"Oh I'm pretty sure you didn't do it Potter. But it wouldn't matter either way, it's a magically binding contract. Now answer the question."

She took a sip of butterbeer.

"Bloody hell that's good." she said calmly. Moments after she widened her eyes and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Please don't tell anyone about this" she asked, the utter desperation in her eyes had him laughing.

He'd heard Ron mutter more profanities than she'd probably ever said under a single breath.

It felt good to laugh. So he kept doing it. And he was still doing it. It wasn't funny anymore, and Daphne was probably looking at him like a madman, but he just didn't care.

Later, when he had recuperated, she didn't seem to judge him, and kept asking the questions on her mind.

He looked at her. Properly looked at her. Maybe it was the lighting under the tree, that did wonders for her complexion, but she was pretty. Beautiful even. And yet, he couldn't recall a single moment he had spoken with her outside of their moment in the library, and he wondered why he would have missed such an opportunity.

To be honest, his social circle was restricted by his friend Ron, and despite their current situation, he was still considered a friend, and he sympathised with him. He had been brought up his entire life in the Weasley circle, and Harry had no doubts in his mind that Slytherins often made fun of them. But they weren't all the same we're they? Well he was about to find out.

"Potter?"

"Um.. yes?"

"You we're ignoring me."

"I'm sorry what?"

_Boys. _

"I was asking if you think you'd win it."

He thought for a moment, but that moment was all he needed. "Nah probably not. They're all two years older, and much more experience, I'll be hopeless."

She paused, letting him continue.

Harry just smirked. "Is there not going to be any sort of reassurances or anything?"

"I would think not, on your own? You're hopeless I have no doubt about it. But if a… certain someone, let's say, a less brash minded individual, were to help you out a bit, then you'd have a chance I'd say."

Maybe he would find a friend in this after all.

**A/N Now before I get a few howler reviews on my version of Hermione, I'd agree that she probably wouldn't act like that in canon, and she's probably my favourite character, but it's not canon, so if you don't like it, the doors that way. **

**The Triwizard tournaments happens earlier in this fic.**

** Quick shower thought, do you guys find it amazing that the HP community has created an entire community revolving around a character, Daphne, despite only having a single line in the books. Never is it mentioned of any sort of persona, or "Ice Queen" status, yet a sort of universal agreement on her character had been decided, Anyway that's enough of me and I wouldn't want to bore you of my presence. good day!**


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